


Jailhouse Rock

by sunriseshades



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: BAMF Fleur Delacour, BAMF Nymphadora Tonks, Bisexuality, F/F, Kissing, Lesbian Relationship, Lesbian Tonks, Mutual Pining, Pureblood Society, tonks doesn't know how to talk to pretty women, wlw relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-27
Updated: 2020-11-27
Packaged: 2021-03-09 18:35:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,277
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27730870
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunriseshades/pseuds/sunriseshades
Summary: Tonks is given the task of acting as a bodyguard for a new client attending a prestigious pureblood ball, and given strict orders to keep a low profile.But that plan was doomed the moment she laid eyes on Fleur Delacour
Relationships: Fleur Delacour/Nymphadora Tonks
Comments: 1
Kudos: 35





	Jailhouse Rock

Nymphadora Tonks was dying. 

She knew this for a fact; felt the decay of her body rot within the very marrow of her bones and heard her heart thud dully in her chest. Her head was too heavy to even lift from the pillow, and her mouth felt as though it had never touched a drop of moisture. 

She shifted ever so slightly in the hammock and felt the solid weight of Charlie’s barely conscious body opposite her, saw the steady rise and fall of his broad chest and it brought her a slither of comfort. 

“I don’t think I’m gonna make it” she said to the silent room; her voice hoarse. 

“Dora, would it kill you to not be so dramatic? I told you to stop drinking after that vampire kept trying to get you to dance with her” Charlie replied, his voice thick with sleep. He didn’t remove his arm from its shielded position over his face, evidently attempting to block any light from reaching his throbbing eyes. 

“Vampire?” Tonks questioned, fighting the heavy fog in her mind in an attempt to recall the events of the night before. It conjured the high staccato voice of an american woman. “Oh yeah, she was fit. The eyes creeped me out though, why were they yellow?” 

“Fuck if I know” he replied. 

She forced herself to look up slightly, pushing against the intense dizziness that overcame her. They were in Charlie’s childhood bedroom at the Burrow, that much she could tell, and the bright light that shone through the cracks in the curtains told her that it was well into the morning, which gave her the rest of the day to recover from the what was frankly the worst hangover she’d ever suffered since the previous weekend. 

Of course, she was never that lucky. 

Heavy footsteps pounded against the wooden floorboards of the landing, and Tonks felt her heart sink in dread. This was supposed to be her day off, surely it couldn’t be- 

Alastar Moody practically kicked the door off its hinges, inciting groans from both her and Charlie. 

“Out of bed, now!” He barked, waving the curtains open with a flick of his wand. 

Tonks promptly pulled the duvet over her face to shield her eyes from the assault of sunlight. 

“You told me I could have the weekend off!” she moaned pitifully, her voice muffled as she tried to bury herself deeper into the hammock. 

“There’s been a change of plan, I need you to work tonight - it’s low risk. I’ll brief you downstairs” He growled, and she could practically feel his scrutinising gaze burn through the duvet and judging her exceptionally poor life decisions. She’d been working under Mad-Eye for almost three year and had long since grown unafraid of him. Equally, she was more concerned with the fact that every fibre of her being ached miserably. 

“Can’t you ask someone else?” she asked, knowing that she was pushing her luck. 

“Do you think I would choose to waste my time dragging a stupid twenty-something apprentice out of bed if I had a choice?!” he demanded harshly, before roughly pulling the duvet off the hammock and exposing her to the chill morning air. 

“Fine!” she resigned, holding up her hands as a sign of defeat, though her limbs felt heavy as lead. 

“I want you downstairs and ready in ten minutes” he instructed firmly, making his way out of the room. 

“Reckon you could get me a glass of water?” she asked, knowing that if she tried to summon it herself it would end poorly, while not noticing how Charlie had tensed beside her. 

Strangely, Mad-Eye’s usually harsh and stern features softened considerably, “a glass of water? Of course, I imagine you’re feeling quite dehydrated, I’ll get that sorted for you” he said sympathetically. 

“Cheers Mad-Eye, you’re a lifesaver” she replied easily, closing her eyes and sinking back into the hammock for a few more minutes of much needed rest. She didn’t see the scowl that crossed the Auror’s face, or how he slowly retracted his wand and jabbed it in her direction.

In seconds, a forceful torrent of icy water sent her body slamming into the floor and left her drenched down to the bone. By the time she caught her breath back to screech profanities, Mad-Eye and disappeared down the hall. 

Fifteen minutes passed before Tonks and Charlie stumbled blearily into the kitchen, where the table was set with endless breakfast dishes.   
“I’m gonna marry your mum one day Charlie, I’m telling you” Tonks announced between mouthfuls of bacon. 

“That should stop her asking me when I’m going to finally ask you out” he retorted, taking a tentative sip of coffee. 

Tonks almost gagged. The pair of them had been best friends from their first year at Hogwarts, and she’d spent countless summer holidays at The Burrow, during which time she focused on teaching Fred and George the rudest jokes, or Ron and Ginny how to make dens from tree branches. It wasn’t until she turned fourteen that she realised Mrs Weasley subtly expected her and Charlie to become a couple, and since then the Weasley matriarch had remained determinedly hopeful that the fateful day would come. Regardless of the fact that Tonks had almost exclusively dated women, or the fact that Charlie genuinely wasn’t interested in pursuing a relationship with anyone. 

Before she could reflect further, Mad-Eye entered the room holding an official looking document. 

“What’s the plan?” she asked, battling a mixture of dread and intrigue. She knew that Mad-Eye would have good reason to use her on her day off, but prayed for as little gore as possible - anticipating that she would still feel slightly tender by nightfall. 

“I need you to be a security guard for someone attending a ball tonight. Shouldn’t be anything crazy, but there’s expected to be a few famous faces and the parent’s want to guarantee their daughter is protected” the Auror explained, and she instantly brightened. She’d never been on a security detail before, though from what she could tell from her colleagues who frequented high society events it involved a lot of standing around and trying to look intimidating. 

“Keep your eyes inside your sockets” Mad-Eye warned as he passed over the document. 

“What?” she scoffed, flicking through the pages outlining the details of the mission, “come on Mad-Eye, I’m a complete professional, cut me some sl- holy fuck” she breathed as her eyes caught sight of the portrait of her client. 

The photograph depicted the glowing face of a dazzling young woman, with delicate nymphet features and luscious blonde hair. She emitted an enticing glow about her porcelain skin and dark blue eyes, giving her the overall appearance of an angel; a divine creature not of this earth. 

Tonks scanned the neatly written name beneath the photograph; Fleur Delacour. “She’s fucking -” something in her mind clicked and recognised the name from the Triwiard Tornemant the year before, “seventeen” she finished in a bright tone. “Seventeen, right? Cool age, seems nice” 

“Eighteen, which you would know if you read the first page,” Mad-Eye corrected wearily. 

Tonks let out a whoop of relief, glad to no longer feel like a total creep for the thoughts that had crossed her mind upon seeing the girl. Seeing Mad-Eye’s glare, she straightened up. 

“I mean, not that it matters, just good to know”. 

Beside her, Charlie coughed to hide his laughter.

“Your main concern is making sure none of the other guests forget themselves” Mad-Eye informed her. 

“You mean, beat away the pervy blokes with a stick? Sounds manageable” she said casually, reaching over to grab a breakfast muffin. 

“If an issue arises, you’re to be discreet, do you understand? These are upstanding people we’re dealing with, the last thing they want is you disrupting the ambience” Mad-Eye growled, annoyed at Tonk’s relaxed attitude. 

“No need to worry, discreet is my middle name,” she assured, leaning back to recline on the chair, and in doing so knocked the mug of coffee and sent its contents spilling endlessly across the length of the table. 

Mad-Eye closed his eyes, and calculated the years left until retirement. 

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“What should the vibe be for tonight?” Tonks asked as she stood in front of a full length mirror in the hallway. 

For years, Charlie had been her main consultant when it came to deciding how she should morph her appearance, primarily because he never suggested things like, “give yourself huge tits”, which could not be said for almost every other boy she had met at Hogwarts. 

The Weasley sat down on one of the steps and thought for a moment.

“If you’re gonna have to be fighting off pervs all night, maybe “big scary macho bloke”?” he suggested. 

Tonks played around with it; adding half a foot to her height and broadening her shoulders and jaw until she resembled the type of bouncer that looked like he ate tarmac. 

“You could get away with it if you keep your mouth shut” Charlie commented, and she flipped him off. It was one thing to look the part, and an entirely different thing to act it. It was difficult to explain to others that while she could morph into almost anything she wanted, her body did have a rough set point, and the further she strayed from it the more she struggled to play a convincing role. For example, her comfortable height fell at around 5’7, and while she could lengthen her body to nearly 7 foot, she would inevitably lose most of her sense of balance. 

She regarded her appearance in the mirror for a moment, and imagined herself with Fleur’s body; with its alluring curves and grooves, and for some reason she felt suffocated. 

“I reckon she deals with enough macho blokes trying to crowd her” she admitted, returning to her normal height and regrowing her hair. 

In the end, she settled for a less intimidating appearance; her hair was shaved into a neat buzzcut, though maintained its vibrant pink colour. She gave herself her mother’s wide brown eyes and her father’s tanned bronze skin, while her stature was of a broad, athletic nature. Years of Auror training had undeniably sculpted her physique considerably, and she took great pleasure in feeling strong in her body - that fact that she had half formed abs happened to be an added bonus. 

“I’ll bet you ten galleons she’s a pompous bitch” Charlie commented once Tonks was dressed and about to aparrate. 

“Nah” she disputed, fumbling to put her wallet and wand in her pockets. 

“What, you reckon she’ll be decent?” he questioned

“Oh no, I’m certain she’ll be an absolute nightmare, I just don’t think you have ten galleons to spare” she winked, and disappeared before he could fight her. 

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- 

Tonks landed with a resounding thud before a sharp force kicked at her stomach and sent her sprawling onto the gravel before she had a chance to gather her bearings. 

When she looked up, she saw that she was inches away from an ornate carriage, in which sat an ethereal looking woman, who was looking down at her with an expression of both alarm and disdain. However, Tonks imagined that it was an expression that Fleur Delacour wore often. 

“Fucking theastrals, am I right?” she half-laughed, by means of explanation. She scrambled to her feet and brushed off the gravel that stuck to her before making her way to the carriage. “You must be Fleur, I’m Tonks - I’ll be your security guard tonight” she introduced. 

Somehow, Fleur Delacour was even more beautiful in the flesh; her hair was neatly made in a braid that snaked around her thin neck and her bright blue robes swarmed like waves around a perfectly carved statue. Tonks forced herself to look normal, while heart had stopped beating in her chest. 

An eternity of time seemed to pass, during which Fleur was quite obviously judging her quite severely. Eventually, however, the Veela took Tonk’s outstretched hand and climbed gracefully from the carriage. 

“I wasn’t expecting…” Fleur trailed off, her voice loaded with a thick french accent. 

“A woman? I get it, I can be a bloke if you want - no problem” she assured quickly. 

Fleur raised a perfectly shaped eyebrow, and Tonks felt herself blush. 

“I mean, I can - “ knowing that words would fail her, she slowly morphed her face into a more chiselled and masculine reflection. 

Fleur’s eyes widened, and her pink lips fell to form the shape of an “o”. 

“You are… how do you say in english?” she demanded, clicking her fingers as though to grasp the word from thin air. 

“Metamorphagus” Tonks said brightly. 

Fleur seemed to ponder the term for a moment before speaking once more, “I’ve ‘erd some questionable things about your kind” she said. 

“And I’ve heard some very questionable things about yours” Tonks matched before she could stop herself. She heard Mad-Eye’s angry shouting in her mind; just keep your fucking mouth shut and stay out of trouble. 

This time it was Fleur’s turn to blush; the light pink flush forming on her chest and cheeks. 

“Forgive me” the veela demanded, “I did not mean to be rude”. 

“It’s alright, you’re not the first to be suspicious," she assured, before indicating to the long driveway that led to Lady Zabini’s manor, “fancy heading up?” 

The pair began walking, and it wasn’t long before Tonks felt a question bubble at her throat. Mad-Eye had strictly instructed her to keep the talking to a minimum, and only speak when absolutely necessary. Then again, the miserable bastard wasn’t here to tell her off. 

“How do you walk in those?” she asked, looking down at the stilettos. Fleur moved with unnerving grace, as though she was walking on water rather than gravel. 

The veela smirked slightly, “it came with practice," she answered and Tonks hummed thoughtfully. 

Upon arriving at the doors of the manor and being guided by a smartly dressed squib through the main entrance, Tonks decided that the Zabini estate closer resembled a palace, than a manor. Huge marble pillars framed the hallway, and floor to ceiling windows lined the walls and allowed the blissful colours of sunset to bleed over the endless wreaths of flowers and candles. The melodic sound of an orchestra danced through the air as various witches and wizards glided across the room with the ease that came from a lifetime of unchallenged wealth. 

Nevertheless, Tonks noticed a tangible shift in the atmosphere the moment they entered the room; some stole side glances from the corner of their eyes while others openly gawped and one man spluttered into martini. She glimpsed at Fleur, who wore a mask of indifference, but kept her eyes straight forward. 

“I think they’re staring at my hair” Tonks whispered conspiratively, while eyeing the others around them. 

“I hate this part” Fleur muttered, ignoring her comment. Tonks watched the Veela push her shoulders back and smile demurely at the onlookers, and while the sight made the music sound ever sweeter, the other woman couldn’t help but notice that the smile didn’t reach her eyes. 

“I can tell you a joke if you want” Tonks offered, and upon hearing no audible protest said, “what do tight trousers and poorly designed castles have in common?” 

She watched as Fleur contemplated for a moment, her brow puckering slightly, “tell me,” she insisted. 

“No ballroom” Tonks winked, and faltered slightly when Fleur looked back at her blankly, “you see? Because it means - “ 

“I’m not an idiot, Mizz Tonks, it just isn’t that funny” the blonde replied matter-of-factly. 

“Ouch, okay, I’ll keep quiet from now on” she offered, as more people began to pile into the room. 

“I didn’t say that” Fleur responded quickly, “I would prefer your company to - oh, Monsieur Parkinson, ‘ow lovely to see you again” 

The Mr Parkinson in question was a lanky, leather skinned man with a face like a melted candle, who had somehow emerged from the shadows of the room to bow theatrically at Fleur’s feet. 

“Fate just keeps bringing us together it seems, my dear” the older man grinned, and the lines around his face deepened. He took Fleur’s hand in his and kissed it for far longer than etiquette required. Still, Fleur curtsied elegantly in a well practiced motion. “Tell me, have you thought any more about my offer to visit my summer home in France?” 

Tonks cringed, this man was well over twice her age but was swooning at Fleur as though they were long lost lovers. Yet the Veela barely batted an eye at the uncomfortable proposal. 

“Perhaps one day Monsieur, when I am not so busy with my work” she placated, and Mr Parkinson gasped in mock mortification. 

“Surely a woman of your beauty has no business working. I’m sure if I spoke with your parents we could come up with a mutually beneficial -” 

“Will your daughter be attending tonight’s ball, Mr Parkinson?” Tonks interjected, and the wizard turned to stare at her as though she had grown two heads. 

“What? No, she’s at school right now” he answered bluntly, evidently annoyed at the interruption, except Tonks wasn’t finished. 

“Oh, that’s a shame, I imagine her and Miss Delacour have a lot in common. I wonder, what is it that teenage girls are raving about these days?” she pondered aloud, adopting a mocking tone to make herself seem older than her twenty two years. 

Mr Parkinson, not being a completely brainless man, caught at what she was implying and scowled darkly before turning on his heel and disappearing into the crowd. 

“Creepy fuck” she whispered under her breath, and Fleur giggled; the sound resemblling windchimes against the sea breeze. 

Many other interactions and introductions transpired over the course of that first hour; faceless men gravitated towards Fleur hopelessly, some barely able to string a sentence together. The women mostly stared coldly, although others cooed and gawked as though she was an exhibit at a museum, (“oh Maraget, isn’t she darling? Wouldn’t she do for your Matthew?”). At one point, Tonks had to bat an old woman’s hand from stroking Fleur’s hair. 

“Jesus, is this what it’s like all the time?” She asked, agonised. 

“Yes” Fleur responded shortly, as a waiter waltzed past with a tray of champagne, she took two glasses and passed one to Tonks. 

“I’m not supposed to drink on the job," she argued. 

“Humour me,” the blonde girl said, and the pair clinked glasses, “Can I ask, where is your name from?” 

Truthfully, Tonks was surprised that the veela had even remembered her name after so many people introducing themselves. 

“Here, I think. My dad’s family is english” she said, already anticipating the next question. 

“And what iz your first name?” 

“Uh, not something I go by, it’s proper ugly if I’m honest” 

“I don’t think it’s fair for you to have information about me if I do not even get to know your name!” Fleur pushed, and her tone made it clear that it wasn’t something she would give up. 

“What? I hardly know anything about you other than that you’re the french chick who was in the Triwazard Tornement” Tonks defended.

“Well, would you like to know more about me?” the veela asked slowly. 

“Obviously!” she answered quickly. Her curiosity regarding Fleur had only grown since meeting her, mainly she wondered how someone with such dazzling beauty attracted so much attention while remaining unseen? Of all the admirers who had approached her, the conversation had never once extended further than asking her where her dress was from, or more sinister questions regarding her experience or relationship status. It was evident to Tonks that anyone with enough nerve to fight dragons and move countries right after graduating had some stories to tell. 

She noticed a fleeting expression flash across the blonde’s face; it was surprise. However, she recovered herself quickly and answered with undeniable smugness. 

“Well, tell me your name and I’ll tell you whatever you want to know” 

Tonks rolled her eyes, “fine. If you must know, my first name is Janet, happy now?” 

A laugh escaped Fleur’s lips before she could stop herself, then she squinted her eyes suspiciously. 

“Janet. No, a woman that looks like you can’t possibly have such a simple name” she stated, “tell me the truth”. 

Tonks was beginning to believe that the rumour she’d heard about veela’s being able to look into your soul was true. 

“Alright, i’ll tell you,” she resigned, “but if you laugh I’ll call over that bloke with the beard so he can tell you more about his pleasure garden”

“You wouldn’t!” Fleur gasped, “I won’t laugh, I promise”.

Still, Tonks looked side to side to make sure no one was within earshot before leaning over to speak into the blonde’s ear. She didn’t anticipate that the blonde would also lean forward, meaning there was barely a centimeter of space between the two, and Tonks was close enough to feel the warmth of her skin and smell the sweet ambrosial scent of her expensive perfume, and was met with a flurry of nerves in the pit of her stomach. 

“Nymphadora?!” Fleur cried out, and Tonks had to stop herself clamping a hand around her mouth.

“Shhh!” she urged, “I know, it’s ridiculous. I reckon my mum was half way through a breakdown when she chose it” 

“It is not ridiculous! It’s… it’s beautiful” Fleur claimed, sounding genuinely enchanted. 

“If you say so,” Tonks deflected sceptically, “Now it’s my turn to ask questions” 

“Very well, what would you like to know?” 

The matamorphagus thought for a moment, deciding which of the many questions she was most keen to know the answer for, in the end she settled for a standard one that she frequently asked people as she first got to know them. 

“If you could completely change your appearance - as in, everything about you - would you do it?” 

Fleur raised her eyebrows and took a quick sip of champagne before answering with a solid, “no”. 

“No?!” Tonks repeated in disbelief. 

“Why would I want to change how I look? I’m beautiful” she shrugged, with the uncaring confidence that entirely contradicted british decorum. 

“I mean, yeah, not denying that, but don’t you get sick of guys tripping over their hard on to look at you?” she questioned.

“Of course! But that is a problem with them, not me. Why would I change myself when it is they who should learn to change their behaviour!” Fleur said indignantly, taking a sip of champagne. 

“Fair point” 

“Plus, clearly you are not afraid to stand out” Fleur added, looking up at the neon pink fuzz of Tonk’s hair. 

Tonks grinned at the observation, “yeah, but I enjoy the looks of alarm over lust," she argued, and Fleur smiled. 

“Well, there is a woman who has been staring at you all night” she commented. 

“Yeah? Where?” Tonks asked, annoyed at the eagerness in her voice. The chances of anyone being remotely interested in her while she stood next to Fleur was next to none. 

“Don’t make it obvious, but just to your left she - I said don’t make it obvious!” she snapped and brought her hand to clasp Tonk’s jaw and pull it back to look down at her. 

Tonk’s mouth went dry as she felt the touch of Fleur’s cold skin on her face, her acrylic nails accidentally digging into her cheekbone. 

“Sorry!” she said sheepishly beneath the scalding glare of the shorter girl.   
When Fleur dropped her hand, Tonks shifted more subtly to look to her left, her eyes scanning through the crowd of socialites and finally landing on a tall, pale faced blonde woman wearing exquisite green satin robes. 

“Shit!” she breathed. 

“What is it? Is she dangerous?!” Fleur asked urgently, and Tonks forced herself to relax. 

“Nah, it’s just my mum’s sister,” she said. She’d known that it was a matter of time that she bumped into her estranged family, though hadn’t quite anticipated it to be so soon. Of course it was her mother’s facial features that betrayed her. 

“Your aunt?” Fleur pushed. 

“No need to get technical, we’ve never been formally introduced” she explained, and Fleur looked mortified. 

“That’s ‘orrible, I cannot imagine life without my sister,” she whispered

“Shit happens,” Tonks shrugged, which was her answer to roughly 90 per cent of her problems in life. “Besides, bruntettes aren’t really my type," she added, grabbing them both another glass of champagne each and instantly taking a generous sip. 

“I wouldn’t expect someone like you to judge people’s appearance” Fleur sniffed 

“Oh come on, everyone has a preference; you definitely do,” Tonks stated confidently. 

“Is that so? And what do you suppose my preference is?” she asked cryptically. 

Tonks laughed, already with a half formed answer in her mind. Her eyes scanned the room and landed on a middle aged couple who were only just entering the room, and served as a perfect example to the point she was about to make. 

“Considering you look like you walked straight out of a renaissance painting, you definitely go for guys way below your league. See that couple over there - the ones walking in our direction?” she said, and Fleur nodded hesitantly, “I mean, she’s a proper MILF- gorgeous woman, right? While he looks like an investment banker or some shit” she explained. 

There was a slight pause, and Fleur eventually tore her eyes away from the couple and faced Tonks, “those are my parents” 

Tonks considered that being bludgeoned to death would be less painful than the infinite seconds that passed that moment, during which she imagined all the ways that Mad-Eye was going to kill her for fucking up such a simple mission and for offending one of their newest clients. Her heart sank into the very pit of her stomach and for a moment she could only stare open mouthed at Fleur, who was practically vibrating in rage. 

“Fuck. Fleur I am so, so sorry I didn’t mean - “ she paused and did a double take as a droplet of moisture escaped Fleur’s crystal blue eyes. She was laughing, her dainty shoulders shook and she clutched at her stomach desperately. 

Tonks instantly felt weak with relief, and upon glancing at the quickly approaching couple, burst out laughing at how utterly stupid she was at having called Fleur Delacour’s mother a MILF. 

When the pair eventually caught their breath, Fleur closed the gap between them and looked up at her. 

“Would you like to know my preference, Nymphadora?” She asked coily, and Tonks was suddenly rooted to the spot, undeterred at the fact that the veela had used her much hated first name as it just sounded so pretty coming from her mouth. 

“Yes” she said, her throat dry. 

“I like people who make me laugh”. 

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The remainder of the night passed in a blur. Tonks was introduced to Apolline and Albert Delacour, who were aggressively pleasant in their mannerisms; thanking Tonks profusely for her presence before asking their daughter to recount the events of the night thus far. At one point, Mr Delacour discreetly handed Tonks a small sack heavy with coins and asked her to give him the names of individuals who exhibited particularly perverted behaviour. Naturally, she said that she would gladly do that for free, but he brushed her off. 

However, when she and Fleur were once more left alone, a series of thoughts bounced furiously around her mind. Were her and Fleur flirting? Was she even interested or just playing along because she was bored of the men in the room? Does it even matter?

As the orchestra’s music became more soulful and rhythmic, couples slowly migrated to the dance floor, and no fewer than seven bold men began closing in on Fleur; the first of whom to reach her was a broad, dashing gentleman dressed in robes that cost as much as a house; he bowed nobly and extended his arm to her. In a rich, aristocratic voice he asked if she would give him the honour of this dance. In all fairness, Tonks considered him to be the only man in the room within ten miles of Fleur’s league. 

“I must apologise, Monsieur, but I have already promised this dance to someone else” she said apologetically, much to the glee of the other potential suitors. 

“Are you nuts? You’re seriously gonna dance with one of these cretins?” Tonks critiqued obliviously once the man had left. 

Fleur rolled her eyes, “no, you idiot; I want to dance with you”

“Me?!” She choked, “Nah, I’d love to - believe me, but I can barely walk on a flat surface without tripping over my own two feet. Plus I’m security, I’m supposed to -”

“I will feel far safer dancing with you than any of those men” Fleur interrupted, and had already grabbed her hand and was pulling her firmly through the crowd and towards the dance floor. 

“Seriously Fleur, I can’t do this -” 

“Just one dance, that’s all I ask," she insisted, she loosened her grip on Tonk’s hand and stared at her with wide eyes. Lights from the many candles flickered across her features so that she positively glowed with ethereal charm. 

“Fine” Tonks relented, annoyed at the fact that Fleur could ask her to pick the stars from the sky and she would probably do it, and if only to see the dazzling smile that greeted her as the blonde beamed. 

“Fantastic, all you must do is follow my lead,” she instructed, before planting Tonks’s hand firmly on her own tiny waist. 

Before Tonks could change her mind, the small Veela had all but lurched them into the very center of the dance floor, and began dancing in well practiced movements; her dress flowing gently to each side and catching the candle light. She guided Tonk’s feet expertly, never flinching when her feet were crushed by the other woman’s boots, and spoke words of firm encouragement. 

“You are doing well, now just straighten your back,” she directed, and Tonks obliged; she’d been so consumed with watching her own movements that she’d been completely unaware to the crowd of people who were watching them with eyes wide in disbelief.  
She turned to look at Fleur in order to tell that absolutely everyone was looking at them, but before she could do so a more profound realisation hit her like a punch in the stomach. Fleur Delacour was the most celestial, ravishing woman in the entire wizarding world, and had a list of potential suitors and dance partners that resembled the Forbes list, but she wanted to dance with her, and was looking up at her as though they were the only two in the room. 

In that moment, Tonks thought she was going to burst with joy. 

From that point, she relaxed considerably; it wasn’t in her nature to give a shit about what other people thought, and she realised her main concern had been embarrassing Fleur, but since that possibility seemed unlikely, Tonks realised that she had nothing to lose. 

Nevertheless, after a few minutes she spotted another couple dancing elegantly within the center of the stage, they were entirely in sync with one another’s movements, as though they were one soul split into two bodies. 

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” she huffed, and Fleur stifled a laugh. 

“At least someone in your family tree can dance," she commented, just as Lucius and Narcissa waltzed passed. 

“Pompous Pricks” Tonks muttered, and as the music hit its peak she spun Fleur round and held by the waist while she gradually leaned back with the utmost grace. At the same moment, Lucius performed the same move with Narcissa, and Tonks caught eyes with the smug face of her uncle. 

The song gradually came to a stop, and the crowd burst into polite appreciative applause. 

“I appreciate you giving me this dance, I know you were against the idea” Fleur thanked. 

“Oh fuck that, I’ll never be able to look at my mum again if I have to tell her that her sister outdid me” she said firmly, and Fleur instantly brightened. 

Tonks hurried to where the orchestra was laid out and approached the conductor, who was a dark skinned man with neatly wrapped dreadlocks and pressed a few galleon coins into his hand before requesting a song. After a moment of deliberation, he gave a curt nod, leaving her to rush back to the gorgeous woman waiting for her at the dance floor. 

Instantly the room was filled with louder, more dynamic tunes, and Fleur froze.   
“I do not know this song,” she confessed, sounding scandalized. Evidently her years of dance lessons had consisted exclusively of classical music, but Tonks merely grinned and grabbed her hands with newfound confidence. 

“Don’t worry, just follow my lead,” she emphasised, “I know this song like the back of my hand”. 

That much was true, as Elvis’s “Jailhouse Rock” flooded the hall and the notes reached the highest corners of the room, Tonks was flooded with memories of forcing a reluctant Charlie to dance with her in the Gryffindor Common room until the early hours, jumping from sofa to sofa until an enraged McGonagall had dragged her by the hair to her own common room. 

This time round, Tonks become the coolest, most suave 1950’s heartbreaker; with a grin that nearly split her face in two she jived effortlessly to the beat, not caring for a second how she appeared to others, but instead on how her heart sang with joy as she spun Fleur in her arms, the blonde gradually relaxing into the music and swerving her hips in time with the music. 

Eventually when Tonks glanced around the room, she noticed that they were among the very few couples left on the dancefloor, and that even the infamous Malfoy’s had fled to the outskirts. In particular, Lucius wore an expression of pure disdain, as though they were nothing but filth on his shoe. Tonks couldn’t help herself, the next time she dipped Fleur, she caught eyes with the blonde man and stuck out her tongue in a childish expression of utter triumph.

The music seemed to last for hours, during which she and Fleur flailed tirelessly across the room, dancing as though they had known one another for years. Tonks knew exactly at which moments to reach for Fleur’s waist or arm to spin her, and Fleur knew exactly how to kick out her long legs and snap her fingers. 

At one point, she complained that her shoes were beginning to hurt. 

“Take them off then!” Tonks shouted over the music

“I can’t do that!” Fleur had answered immediately, scandalized. 

“Pussy”. 

Needless to say, Fleur kicked off the stilettos and continued dancing, and Tonks felt a rush of adoration toward the blonde, who was now six inches shorter and stood at just above Tonk’s shoulder level. 

By the time they were finished; they were both out of breath and flushed with heat, and the sudden loud applause yanked them out of their cosy reverie. The most enthusiastic of the crowd were Mr and Mrs Delacour, and for some reason that made Tonks feel all the merrier. 

“I could do with some air," she said to Fleur, who nodded fervently. Within minutes, the pair scurried through the deserted hallways of the manor and found their way to the back garden, which was glowing beneath the light of a full moon. In unison, they sighed in relief as the chilled night caressed their skin, before walking slowly to where an ancient stone fountain was pouring brilliant blue water into a pool. 

“I’d say we make quite the duo,” Tonks stated, when she couldn’t think of anything to say. 

Fleur hummed in agreement, though Tonks could have sworn that a flash of mischief crossed her blue eyes, “I am absolutely parched. As thirsty as a hippo” she said boldly. 

“Uh, I think the phrase is, “hungry as -” hey!” she yelled when the blonde suddenly slammed into her left side and sent her stumbling. In an instant she saw herself near the pool and realised what was happening, “oh no you don't," she shouted. Seriously, what was Fleur thinking? With ease Tonks wrapped her arms around the blonde’s waist and hoisted her in the air, laughing when she felt hard kicks land on her shin. She half stumbled closer to the pool and was about to throw her in when at the last minute Fleur reached back and gripped Tonk’s torso, so that in the end both crashed into the water. 

While under the water, a rushing silence flooded Tonk’s ears, and all she could hear was the steady rhythm of her heart. She opened her eyes, squinting slightly at the sting, and saw the blur of Fleur’s dress swarm around her like a living being, and in that moment she transcended all earthly beauty and was instead an untouchable angel, her skin positively glowed in an effervescent shade of alabaster white, and if it wasn’t for the lack of oxygen, Tonks could have stared at her all night. 

Eventually, however, the pair burst to the surface and let out a flurry of laughter, before Fleur swam gracefully towards her; a knowing smile brightening her features. 

Tonks was filled with initial panic at the intensity of the moment, but the second the other woman touched her, a delirious calmness bloomed at her very core, because this was how it was meant to be. 

Tonks brought her hands to cup Fleur’s face, and they kissed.


End file.
